Blasphemous Love
by aykayem
Summary: In a world of magical mayhem, two species have been feuding for millennia, the seraphs and the vampyres. It was never thought to happen, but what would occur if a seraph fell in love with a vampyre? Alternate universe, slash.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Blasphemous Love

Series: Harry Potter

Genre: Romance / Supernatural

Summary: In a world of magical mayhem, two species have been feuding for millennia, the seraphs and the vampyres. It was never thought to happen, but what would occur if a seraph fell in love with a vampyre? Alternate universe, slash.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyright to JK Rowling.

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Chapter One

The twilight had spread over the city, the darkness awakening the creatures of the night and their eternal rivals. Humans scattered the areas, fleeing back to the supposed safety of their homes in silence. Fear had captured their hearts and souls, bringing them back each night. Few wandered the streets, and those who did were sought by the vampyres.

Upon the sky-high rooftops, a blonde boy spread his arms to their full width, his bright grey eyes closed as he stepped to the edge of the building. The boy's father stood a few metres back, his shoulder-length white-blonde whipping in the wind as he watched his son step forward, eyes shut, moving purely by instinct. The older man's arms were crossed over his chest, a repellent look formed upon his harshly carved features.

"Draco." The man called, the wind almost carrying his voice away completely. The blonde boy stopped for a moment, eyes still closed. "Remember what you're to accomplish this night. Don't let the goal out of your mind." Draco barely gave recognition that he'd heard his father, instead continuing to step to the edge. Stepping up atop the thin edging of the building, Draco stood for a moment, wavering in the wind, his cheek-length blonde hair whipping about in the vicious winds.

The blonde boy wavered for a moment longer, before falling forward slightly, his bare feet pushing off the hard concrete as a knot in his stomach tightened. He sucked in a deep breath, opening his eyes as he fell through the sky, the ground hurtling closer with each passing second.

Shutting his wide grey eyes suddenly, his back arched and his legs pulled in slightly, curving him into a small ball shape, as a pair of oversize white wings pushed through his skin and tore a pair of punctures in his loose white dress shirt. The wings spread at least twice his arm-span before catching the wind, slowing him. With a single flap, Draco took to the air, passing by the lit windows as fast as he'd been falling.

Draco erupted past the roof of the building, his father watched, a twisted smirk forming along the length of his thin lips. As Draco circled higher, his arms falling loosely to his sides, legs hanging as he flew, soft rain droplets began falling, leaving velvety streaks upon his pale skin. Noting the rain, his father below began stalking back to the penthouse of the building, where the family lived; Draco, his father, his mother.

The door leading to the elevator to their level slammed shut, a rude awakening in the peaceful silence of the rain. Draco settled to a comfortable level above the building, his wings keeping him in place, beating through the water, spreading it. His grey eyes scanned the city to it's limits as he mumbled things to himself.

"The goal, the mission…why can't he do it himself? If it's such a revered position to be in; hunting down those fiends…" The seventeen year old crossed his arms, sneering down at the mortals below him, and the immortals dwelling below them. "The sooner this is done, the better. How hard can it be to find a brunette orphan?" He scoffed, descending to circle the buildings, the senses he'd be honing for the day his father sent him out for the first time picking up on every vampyre below.

---

A brunette, no older than Draco himself, slunk amongst the shadows, his bright green eyes glowing in the darkness around him. His pale skin was accentuated by the long black cloak he'd thrown about himself, over top the simple black trousers and white dress shirt. His feet, though clad in heavy black boots, made hardly a sound as he ran between the buildings.

Passing outside a large warehouse-gone-night-club, the music pounded in his head, the female's foreign vocals resonating with the bass. The green-eyed brunette never liked females, not from day one. His mother had died in child-birth, his father killed himself in sorrow shortly after, leaving the boy orphaned and alone.

Then he'd gone to his aunt and uncle, who just had a baby of their own. Dudley had been killed the moment the green-eyed beauty realised he could kill with his fangs. After his death, Petunia and Vernon realised what he was and tried everything to stop it: beating him nearly to death, locking him in the cupboard beneath the stairs with nothing to eat, etc. Neither of them realised he could live off his own blood and heal quickly enough.

One evening, on his eleventh birthday, they found him in the cupboard, blood splattered around the cupboard and his mouth, dripping from his long canines and both his wrists. Petunia had started to scream, hardly getting a note out before he was on her, sucking the life from her throat. It was convenient and he knew it would kill her. Vernon had run off at the sight, coming down the stairs quickly, only to see his wife dead by the orphan's hands as well. He had cocked the rifle and shot it, the bullet puncturing the black-haired boy's shoulder through, blood splattering the wall behind him.

The brunette simply lunged from Petunia's corpse to his uncle's throat, sucking his life away as well. The rifle clattered to the ground, and once again, Harry was alone.

Glancing into the club, he decided quickly there was way too many people. He'd already fed for the night anyways. Sliding away from the club, he'd hardly made it around the corner before he was tackled to the ground by a seraph. He could only tell it was one of those horrible holy creatures by the sound of the giant wing beats produced as it descended.

"Boo."

The seraph's fingernails dug into Harry's shoulders, cutting into the flesh. He'd never known a seraph to be so harsh. He liked this one. A sadistic grin spread along his lips, and the seraph sneered. "What's your name, little angel?" Harry asked, tilting his head to one side slightly, his grin widening to reveal sharp canines.

"Draco. And I'm gonna be the last thing you see, parasite." The seraph spat, sneering sadistically, digging his nails in further as his wings folded against his back tightly. Harry cocked his head to the other side, his smile fading.

"Why's that, Draco? What've I done to you…?"

"You existed."

"That's not a very nice reason."

"It's why my father sent me after you." The words were spat at Harry, but the vampyre could tell that Draco didn't really want to kill anyone. Not at the moment. It showed through in his eyes. Arching his back slightly, the black-haired creature leaned up, capturing the seraph's lips with his own. Above him, Draco's grey eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, as Harry deepened the kiss slightly.

Releasing his fingernails from Harry's flesh, Draco tried to pull away, only to find the vampyre's arms wrapped about him, pressing their bodies together. Harry's tongue found a space through which to slip, and quietly explored Draco's mouth. He sure knew his way around a guy's mouth, that was for sure. The white-blonde almost moaned, his eyes falling shut naturally.

Harry smirked slightly, then rolled the two of them over, so rather than Draco being on top, the black-haired teen was. He straddled the blonde, their hips pressing together intimately, their thinly-clad chests pressed together, allowing the other male's warmth to sink into each. "It's obvious you have no idea as to how to do things like this." Harry stated, rather bluntly, smiling into his new lover's eyes. Or boytoy, depending on whether or not someone found them.

"I've never had a reason to know. My job's to hunt you down and kill you, bloodsucker, not make out with you and be your victim of pleasure." Draco glared at his captor, annoyed once again now that Harry's tongue wasn't down his throat. The brunette simply shot him a warm smile, and took Draco's hands in his own, sitting up somewhat.

"I'll teach you then."

"Teach me what?"

"How to be gentle with a lover."

"I don't want to learn to be gent—"

Harry leaned down, capturing the blonde's lips again, silencing him for a moment. This time, Draco did emit a moan; a quiet one, just enough to get the brunette off his lips for a moment. "I'm teaching you."

Sitting up further, he began unbuttoning Draco's shirt, much to the blonde's displeasure. "What're you doing! Get your hands off my chest!" He began trying to twitch his way out of Harry's grasp, his attempts purely in vain. The brunette finished with the last buttons, then slid his hands up around Draco's pale, smooth shoulders. His delicate fingers began caressing the nape of the blonde's neck, causing his back to arch slightly.

"Stop that!" He grumbled, trying not to moan out in pleasure. Harry, for once, obliged.

"You do the same now." Draco stared at him like he grew another head, then reached up with shaking hands and undid the first button on the brunette's shirt. "No, no, no." Harry told him gently, taking his hands. "Seductively. Otherwise it's just like you're taking off your own shirt to go to bed." Placing his hands over Draco's cool fingers, he softly moved them over the next button, undoing it slowly and running the blonde's fingers over the small section of his bare chest.

He undid the next button, releasing Draco's hands slightly, allowing him to do the rest. He was quite good at it now, though his hands still shook. Draco finished the last button, hesitated, then tenderly slid his hands over Harry's chest, feeling the rippled muscles beneath the skin. Harry smiled at him, as Draco continued, running his hands around Harry's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Now kiss me, of your own will." Draco leaned up, closing his eyes somewhat out of embarrassment, but pressed his lips to Harry's. The brunette's eyes flashed sadistically as he met the kiss with open arms and deepened it, running his hands along Draco's chest. Their tongues darted against each other, as both fought to be the dominant. Draco finally wrapped one leg around Harry and flipped himself to lie atop the skinnier brunette.

Releasing the lip lock for a moment of air, Harry began planting light butterfly kisses along the other male's neck and chest, as his hands moved to the zipper of the blonde's plain black trousers, fiddling with it as Draco released another moan, allowing himself to be flipped back to the bottom.

---

"Lucius." The addressed man glanced up from the thick novel in his hands to his lanky wife, who, although beautiful, seemed to have her painted lips permanently pouting like she had a nasty smell beneath her nose. "You're sure that it was prudent to send Draco out on such an important mission?"

"You question my decision, Narcissa?" Lucius slid a bookmark between the pages and dropped the heavy tome on the table beside his large chair. "I would not have sent Draco out if it weren't time that he spread his wings and do his kind a favour." Narcissa shrugged one bony shoulder and strode over to a chair adjacent to her husband. As she walked, the sapphire dress hugging her hips brushed against the spotless floor. Dropping herself in it, she folded her large wings tight to her back and stared out the window, watching the light droplets splatter against the window.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Blasphemous Love

Series: Harry Potter

Genre: Romance / Supernatural

Summary: In a world of magical mayhem, two species have been feuding for millennia, the seraphs and the vampyres. It was never thought to happen, but what would occur if a seraph fell in love with a vampyre? Alternate universe, slash.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyright to JK Rowling.

-----

Chapter Two

Millennia ago, just as humans came to roam upon the earth, seraphs and vampyres didn't exist. They existed only in the imagination of people who dreamt of such imaginative creatures. Legend even describes the creation of seraphs and vampyres to have come from such minds. Whether or not the legend is fact or fiction is unknown to all, however.

Another legend describes that as time passed, certain groups of humans evolved beyond the others, into various species, what would now be known as the seraphs and vampyres. Originally, it was said that vampyres were simply people who had filed their canines down to sharp points and fed off the blood of humans. Eventually they were born with sharper teeth and had to feed on blood to survive.

The same legend stated that seraphs were never in fact angels, but the spirits of the dead whom people claimed to see. They were always described as ghostly creatures; appearing at the strangest times and saving people from themselves or even destroying people. It was never once stated that seraphs, although most living beings assumed them to be associated with a God of some form, were angelic. In fact, most were quite cruel.

As proven in the Malfoys, one of the oldest seraphic families existing.

Narcissa, although having married into the family, was from another well-known seraphic family, the Blacks. Most of the family were seraphs, though one Sirius Black had fallen from grace after being declared the godfather of a vampyre. The marriage of Narcissa and her husband Lucius brought a new marriage to the families, reuniting sects of seraphs everywhere.

Narcissa watched the rain splatter drearily against the large windows making up the wall of their penthouse living room. It was quite lovely to her, finally dragging a smile onto the beautiful woman's face. Seeing his wife smile brought a sympathetic smile to Lucius' face, although only for a second.

Silence had filled the room since Lucius' last words, broken only by the rhythm of the raindrops. Neither bothered to speak; both had been able to communicate their desires without even moving to the other. They seemed almost soul mates, if not for the fact that the marriage was arranged, and neither even loved the other. Not on the outside, at least.

---

The rain had somehow failed to touch either of the spontaneous lovers. It may have been because of an overhang somewhere, or the rain could have just been going in the opposite direction. Whatever the reason, neither Draco nor Harry was wet. The only thing wetting them was the taste of the other's saliva, and that wasn't nearly enough to soak them to the bone, the way this rain would have.

As Harry ran his hand down Draco's chest, touching just below his abdominal muscles and earned a moan and a twitch of a wing from the blond seraph, he heard something, looking up from the blond teen. Draco looked at him, slightly angered that the brunette had stopped whatever he had been doing.

"Oi! Where're you going?" He demanded, sneering slightly as Harry pushed himself off Draco without so much as something to calm the blond's racing heart. There was no response from the brunette and Harry slid off into the shadows before Draco had a chance to catch up to him. "Shit." He began hastily tucking his shirt back into his pants, pulling them up from where Harry had shoved them and doing up the fly, rebuttoning the dress shirt and straightening his hair, in case anyone came across him.

He ran down the alley Harry had turned, and glanced around for the brunette, now completely infuriated with their anticlimactic relationship. Growling beneath his breath at the sudden disappearance, Draco – in one fluid movement – turned to the nearest wall and shot a punch at it with all the force in his body. The bricks chipped with the effort and the skin upon his knuckles was torn and bloody, a warm streak of blood running down his fist.

"Shit. That vamp just ran off…" He swore, ignoring the blood on his fist. "Shit!" Extending his wings to their full length, he gave one quick beat and took off to the skies, cussing under his breath as he flew, searching high and low for any vampyre he could spot. The first he found was going to die.

Harry slipped through a shadowed doorway, making sure no one saw him. He had been fleeing Draco for an exact hour at that point, and had to make sure he had lost the seraph for sure before going to his master. Bowing deeply as he entered the room, he stepped up to the shadowed platform on which his lord sat upon.

"My lord." He bowed again, dropping to one knee and lowering his head. A raspy series of coughs greeted him from the shadows, and Harry's green eyes almost looked up to see if the older man was alright.

"I'm fine, Mr. Potter." The man stated bluntly, having read Harry's expressions easily. He coughed again, almost doubling over in the throne he lounged in. "As you know, I am currently…incomplete. As a vampyre and a being in general. Though I would never sully myself by comparing myself to mortals, you know. Of course you know that, you're my most loyal follower." A raspy cough, followed by a wicked, malicious smile shot to Harry, to which he nodded his head.

"To complete me…I'll need something of you. I wouldn't trust any others than yourself and Severus, you know. Severus is the only human I'd trust…Severus? Come here. Show yourself to Mr. Potter." From the shadows of the platform, a hook-nosed man stepped, his greasy hair falling limply with gravity as he bowed his head to the vampyre kneeling before the platform.

"Mr. Potter." He greeted plainly, his deep monotonous voice etched instantly into Harry's mind. Unlike most people, who either remembered a face or a name, Harry was different: even if he forgot a face or name, he never forgot a voice.

"Mr. Potter. As I was saying. You need to get the life's blood of a seraph for me. The filthy creature must be alive when you suck the blood from it's veins, or the potion's effect is lost. Do you understand me, Mr. Potter!" His master's voice had gone from calm to suddenly shrieking madly. Harry almost moved back a pace, but it would have shown weakness and fear; two things his master would not be pleased with.

"I understand, my lord. I know just the creature…" He purred beneath his breath, slipping away once again into the shadows and leaving Severus to take care of his poor deranged and demented master.

"Severus…" The weakened lord mumbled, his raspy voice almost a purr to Severus' loyal ears. The greasy-haired man began turning the lord's throne around, to take him back to his bed chambers, listening intently to his master's wishes. "Make sure Mr. Potter kills the seraph. And make sure that the Malfoys know I'm rising to power again. If they think they can simply slip from my grasp when they feel like it, they need to be taught to stay in line."

"Yes, my lord." Severus wheeled the throne off the shadowed platform off to the living quarters of the weathered mansion, a great serpent following along behind, hissing delightfully. The chamber was once again left dark and bleak, no one daring to enter the area without a full invitation.

---

The rain had since stopped, and Harry slid along the wall, his heavy boots silent against the stone roads of the city. The clubs were closing, for fear of a vampyre slipping in undetected and sucking the customers dry as they danced. It was shortly after midnight, the moon high in the sky, illuminating the empty municipality.

A light shone from a balcony twenty stories above, one of the few along the street. A young woman, around seventeen, leaned against the wrought iron railing, solemnly watching the stars flicker in their rightful places above her. A redheaded male, abut the same age, slid the sliding glass panel open and stepped out into the night, a mug of tea in his hands for the female.

He whispered something to her, kissed her cheek and handed her the tea. She blushed, whispered something back and accepted the tea, sipping at it as her boyfriend went back inside. She was a supernatural enthusiast, one who devoted her life to seraphs, vampyres and everything else that came with the belief of the creatures.

Harry glided up the side of the building, having both climbed the jutting bricks and the emergency escape. He'd known for years where the woman lived and had kept track of her and her boyfriend, just on the off-chance he'd need them. And of course, he finally needed them, after six years.

"Hello, miss." He greeted, flipping himself up around the balcony, landing with the elegance of a cat upon the thin railing. The woman almost screamed in fright, but caught the sound in her throat and clung to her tea. "Long time no see."

"You're…you're that vampyre! Ron! Come here!" Her eyes lit up as she remembered him, and she turned to call inside to the redhead. "Ron!" The addressed male yawned and got up from the couch, setting his tea down on the glass coffee table. He was obviously tired, anyone could see that, and as he slowly wandered to the door, he yawned. The male began to open the door, but finally looked up and saw Harry, his eyes going as wide as dinner plates.

"VAMPYRE!" He screamed, jumping back. "'Mione! Get away from that!" He shrieked, now somewhat panicked, as he threw the door open, trying to tug his girlfriend away.

"Ron, calm down. He spared us once, if he was going to kill me, he'd have done it already." She giggled. "What's your name, sir vampyre?" She asked politely. Harry smiled warmly at her, nodding his head to Ron, who was still frightened out of his wits.

"Harry. And yours, miss…" He trailed off, waiting for her to fill in the blank.

"Granger. Hermione Granger. And this scaredy-cat is my boyfriend, Ronald Weasley." She giggled, pulling him over to her with one hand. Ron raised one shaking hand and waved quickly. "Won't you join us for tea, sir Harry?"

"Just Harry is fine, Miss Granger. I'd be delighted." He jumped from his spot on the railing to the balcony and followed behind the shorter girl. Ron pressed himself to the outer wall of the balcony, watching Harry intently with a protective sort of fright in his eyes. Harry didn't appear to be dangerous to him, but Ron wasn't going to drop his guard and let his life be taken from him. He especially wasn't going to let Hermione be harmed.

When the redhead entered the room, sliding the door shut behind him with a click as he locked it, he was partially surprised to see the vampyre sitting upon the couch, watching the fire dance in it's place peacefully. Hermione was in the kitchen, fixing him a cup of tea, then frowned slightly before setting the steaming cup down on a semi-warped silver tray along with a small pot of sugar.

"I wasn't sure how many lumps you wanted…" She explained, setting the tray down upon the glass coffee table. Folding her hands in anticipation, the brunette female watched Harry, biting her lip silently. Harry simply took the lid off the pot and spooned a bit of sugar into his tea, then took a smaller teaspoon and began stirring it slightly.

"Thank you, Miss Granger." He sipped at the tea silently, almost as noiselessly as he had fled from Draco. Ron slid around the edge of the room, then laced his arm about his girlfriend's waist and pulled her onto the opposite couch. From there, the two watched him, Ron still in his protective mode, Hermione in quite the opposite. The enthusiast's eyes were glittering with the excitement of having a live vampyre in her home, drinking tea with them.

A pregnant silence filled the room as Harry drank the warm peach tea. Finally, he spoke again, with his rich voice. "I need to ask a favour of the two of you." Hermione's chest swelled with excitement, and she nodded. "You two are supernatural enthusiasts, I believe you like to be called, are you not?" Hermione nodded again, and Ron opened his mouth to speak, before Hermione caught his eye and he shut it again.

"I'd like you to keep tabs on a certain seraph. He has white-blond hair and striking grey eyes. His wings reach about 300 cm in span, and he's a bit taller than half that. Around 180, I think." Harry told them, watching as Hermione made mental notes of everything he said. "Please don't ask why I need to know where he is and when."

"But…why not?" Ron hazarded the question, biting the inside of his lip as he saw the look both Hermione and Harry gave him.

"Because I asked you not to." The redhead wasn't entirely happy with the plain response, but nodded, his eyes not daring to meet the male's, regardless of whether or not they were hidden partially by the thin framed glasses perched upon his nose.

"Harry…" Hermione's voice broke through the previous tension. "Why is it that you wear glasses? Aren't vampyres supposed to have perfect vision?" Harry shrugged slightly, as though he didn't actually know why he wore them from day to day.

Silence, save for the warm crackling and popping of the fire, overtook the room again, as Harry finished his tea and rose from the couch gracefully. "Thank you for your hospitality." He bowed his head to Hermione slightly, glanced to Ron and turned on his heel, almost gliding over the carpet to the balcony. With what looked like a twitch of his long fingers, the door was unlocked and slid open for him. Hermione watched in awe as he stepped out, up onto the rail, and jumped, disappearing from view.

"Wow, Ron…isn't that wonderful? That something that graceful and catlike exists in a human? Well, not human per se…" The redhead began to tune out his girlfriend's voice; as lovely as it was, it was partially annoying when she spoke of those creatures so fondly. It wasn't that he disliked them, especially when they spared the lives of himself and Mione, but something about that particular one bothered him.

And the favour didn't seem too positive either. The description given, albeit plain and somewhat common, described perfectly a seraph by the name of Draco Malfoy. Due to the nature of his and Hermione's career choice, they knew all about the Malfoys, including the most darkly kept secrets of the family. Like how, before the birth of their son, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy worked loyally for the one known as "the vampyre lord", mainly because most were horrified to utter the name of such dark people as him.

Hermione, of course, saw no point in not calling him by his name. 'Voldemort', she always uttered, invoking a shudder in Ron every time they spoke of him.

After the birth of Draco, however, the Malfoys spontaneously decided that they wanted a better life for their child. They left the side of Voldemort for one known as a "seraphic lord". Something obviously much better than working as spies for a vampyre lord. Draco basically grew up sheltered and protected by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who treated everyone with wings like an angel. Possibly a bit naïve of him, Ron always thought, to be treating a Malfoy that way. Especially since they were definitely no angels.

---

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat against the crumbling brick wall of one of many crumbling buildings. He remembered vaguely the history of his own family, and silently went over it in his head. His father, James, had been a disciple of Dumbledore, and a seraph. His mother, Lily, was a freelance vampyre, although from time to time she answered to Voldemort.

It was likely because of that that Harry had become Voldemort's number one follower.

Lily had sired James a few years before she was found to be pregnant with Harry. Why Harry didn't have more seraphic features was odd to him, but he figured he'd never actually find out, not even from his godfather, Sirius. Of course, the fallen angel had since gone into hiding and only contacted Harry from time to time when he really needed it.

Harry remembered that Sirius had once told him that James had allowed himself to be sired because so much was expected of him under Dumbledore's service. You had to practically devote your life to him and pray he didn't ask you to protect your own ass if he got in trouble.

Allowing his eyes to drift slowly closed as he rested for a bit, Harry waited for the seraph to show up somewhere. Above him, Hermione and Ron went about their lives, glancing out the window every so often to see if they could see anything of interest to their vocations.

---

A hand slipped around the corner of a building, trying to tightly grasp the material before it broke off and the hand slid away; it's owner falling forward before she caught herself. The black haired girl glanced around nervously, blood trickling down her chin – the result of biting her lip too hard. She was afraid of something, or someone, and wasn't too vain to hide it.

The black haired female sighed in partial relief as she leaned against the wall, slumping to the ground. Her pug-like facial features were prettier in the twilight of the city, and her clothing albeit being partially dilapidated were still endearing, hardly revealing her newly acquired vampyre nature. Her eyes fell shut in the moonlight as she made a weak attempt to rest and catch her breath.

Her hair was plastered to her head, the fringe sticking out at odd angles from her forehead; the obvious result of being stuck in the bone-chilling rain. She mouthed something to herself, eyelids silently fluttering. Opening one eye halfway, she took in her surroundings, as bleak as they were. An alleyway, the buildings planted together with hardly any room between. Shadows cast from the opposite building, hiding the lower half of her body.

"Please…kill me…" She mumbled, closing her eyes again. Draco looked at her plainly from where he leaned against the wall adjacent to her, his arms crossed over his translucent and sodden dress shirt, one leg crossed over the other comfortably.

"Why's that? Don't want to deal with being a vampyre?" He mocked, sneering vindictively. The blond didn't move from where he leaned, but had half a mind to take a few steps closer to her and kick her in the side, knocking her from the wall and onto the ground. For the time-being, feeling the blood of a vampyre splatter about him was all he wanted, it didn't matter which one.

"I didn't ask to be raped by those two! I didn't ask to be sired!" She cried to him, tears welling in her eyes as her voice became hysterical. Draco raised one eyebrow to her, as if asking 'what two?' She shook her head and continued. "Two redheaded young men. Around twenty-one, twenty-two, I think…" The female broke off and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head despondently against them.

_"Don't worry, little girl…" One of the males sniggered, as his twin brother ripped her skirt up to her panties. "We won't hurt you."_

"_Much." The other sniggered, glancing up to his brother with a sadistic smirk. The girl shut her eyes tightly and screamed as pain shot between her legs, the young men still laughing cruelly. Tears ran down her pale face as one raped her, the other waiting none too patiently to the side. _

"_Move, Fred, I want my turn before she's completely desensitised." The redhead standing up pushed his brother's shoulder slightly, who zipped the fly of his jeans back up and rose, motioning to the black haired female. _

"_She's all yours, George." _

"Please, please…" She sobbed into her arms, causing Draco to turn away and roll his eyes slightly. She was such a sob case. Like she was the only one in that hellhole of a city to ever be raped and sired. However, Draco did want the blood of someone, and this chick was just asking for it.

"I'm not making this pleasant for you."

Through the open window of Hermione and Ron's shared apartment, a blood-curdling scream could be heard. Ron's skin prickled, and he glanced back towards the moonlit sky, wondering just who was being killed. A similar scream had been heard earlier, before Harry had shown up; when Hermione had been soaking in the claw foot tub.

Harry's ears perked up at the scream. He had since moved from below the apartment, instead taking up a seat upon the roof of an empty club, watching the people mill away to their homes, unaware of the horrors of their municipality. A smirk spread along his lips as his green eyes moved up in the direction of the scream, waiting for the seraph to show his fair self.

Draco stepped from the alleyway, spreading his wings. Blood splattered his pants, though it was hardly noticeable. A few beats carried him into the sky, catching an updraft, lifting him higher. The wind tousled his blond hair as he shut his eyes slightly, smiling pensively. Down below, the body of the nameless female lay in a puddle of her blood, various wounds dotting her skin.


End file.
